Crystal, clear bright waters
Remind me of my childhood.
Red cliffs of clay
Daunting, but scalable.
Long hanging wild scuppernong vines
God made for boys to swing out over a sandy, gully floor.
Catching crawfish hiding beneath the weeds and mud
Within a cold stream.
Moonlit nights on Mobile Bay
Chasing fireflies in the park.
Frisbee’s tossed to and fro
By boys with shoulder length hair.
Hobie Cat sailboats line the shore
While mothers splash with toddlers in the gentle waves.
Riding our banana bikes to grandma’s
Because mom and dad were there for gumbo.
Picking every vegetable imaginable
From grandpa’s garden.
Digging worms beneath the compost pile
To use for fishing the next day.
Yes, life was much simpler
When I was a young man growing up in Fairhope, Alabama.